Does This Look Like the Face of a Thief?

Last night, as I lay cozily in my bed, feeling oh so wonderfully comfortable and sleepy, at JUST that perfect moment when you feel yourself teetering on the tipping point between awake and asleep, with my limbs loose and my pillow perfectly cradling my head - I heard it. Thud. Crinkle. Rattle. Crash.

It was the sound of my dog in the kitchen. Prowling. I heard a dish being pulled from the sink and dropped to the ground. I heard her paws up on the counter and silverware being knocked off. Now all of this did not bother me until I remembered that I had put a loaf of bread on the counter to so that I would remember to take it to work in the morning for lunches.

Just at that time, I heard the crinkle crinkle of plastic and I knew that she had gotten the bread. I jumped out of bed and ran downstair after her. She's a black dog in the dark, so I can't see her, but I can hear the bread wrapper. As I reach the bottom of the stairs and turn to the dark kitchen, I heard the dog door flap - she escaped outside with the bread.

The dog door opens to a fenced in area of the yard that can also be accessed by gates for those who can't fit through the dog door. In the winter, those gates are blocked by ice and snow, so when the dogs, my dog, have a stolen treasure that they don't want us to take from them, they are free and clear once they get out of the dog door. There is nothing we can do.

But now, the snow is gone and the gates are free, so I ran out the door and through the gate in my night clothes and got my loaf of bread.